A Silent Surrender

THE STORM WITHIN

When I woke up the next morning, I found Miguel still holding me tightly around the waist, deep in sleep. How strange this man was. At times he acted distant, at others, he was touchy and affectionate. Some days he didn't want me near him, didn't want to sleep with me, yet here he was, clinging to me as if I meant everything to him. I tried to get out of bed, but he pulled me back, mumbling words I couldn't make out.

Yesterday, when he followed me, I'd been surprised, he never seemed to care. But now, it was as if he did, even if I didn't want to get my hopes up. I had assumed he was just looking for sex, so I let him do as he wished. Yet, he didn't. Instead of taking advantage, he was gentle, making love to me with such tenderness that it shocked me. Afterward, he carried me to bed, caressed my hair, and held me all night without once trying to touch me further. It was almost too good to be true, and I couldn't help but wonder, did he care for me? Or was this some other game?

I tried to slip out of bed again, but this time, Miguel tightened his hold, pulling me closer. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, and I couldn't help but giggle softly. Part of me wanted him to take me right there and then. As he pulled me tighter, a small moan escaped my lips, and that was it, he turned me around, lifted me, and placed me on top of him. Too shy to meet his gaze, I covered my face with my hands, but he chuckled and pulled them away. His hands found my body, spanking and squeezing as he teased me, placing me right where I could feel his length pulsing against me. He slid my body against his dick and I could feel my vagina pulsing hard and I moaned again , my legs giving in for more .

He stripped his trousers off, leaving nothing between us. My body responded instinctively, growing weak as he teased me with slow, deliberate movements. I needed him, so badly, but he made me beg. I was too embarrassed to speak, 

"There is  no shame in wanting me , say it. Ask me,  beg me  ,or do you prefer that I stop ",he had said .

 I finally gave in. "No Please," I whispered. "Please what?" he replied, and I barely managed to ask, "Please... I want you ...I want you to fuck me." He didn't hesitate.

Miguel flipped me onto the bed, and what followed was pure intensity. He thrust into me harder and harder, leaving me breathless, my body overwhelmed by wave after wave of pleasure. I had never experienced anything like it. I begged him not to stop, and even after several  orgasms, he continued until he finally reached his own climax. When we were done, my legs trembled uncontrollably, and he kissed me gently, my thighs, my hands, my tummy, and finally my forehead. "You are so hot," he whispered.

Afterward, he carried me to the bathroom, ran a warm bath, and bathed me in the tub. We lay there together in the foam and bubbles, both soaking in what had just happened. In the soft light, he looked perfect, his rare smile captivating me. Miguel could have easily been any woman's dream.

When we finished, we dried off and went to our separate rooms to change. As I dressed, I heard a notification on his phone. Curiosity got the best of me, and I glanced at the screen. A message from "Carm" popped up: *"Yesterday was fun. When am I seeing you again?" My heart sank. Attached was a photo of a woman in lingerie,  the woman I had seen him with before. She was beautiful, stunning, and in that moment, I felt utterly worthless.

My hands trembled as I held the phone, but before I could process anything further, she called. I panicked and threw the phone on the bed. What had I expected? We were just casual partners, after all. How naïve of me to think it was anything more.

When Miguel came for his phone, I told him someone had called, but I hadn't checked. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, and casually told me he had somewhere to be. The audacity! How easily he was swayed by just a picture of her. My chest tightened as I realized she might be the love of his life, and here I was, foolish enough to believe things between us were changing.

After breakfast, I sat at the kitchen table, lost in my thoughts, wondering what the hell would come next. I was still waiting to hear when I'd start school, and the uncertainty was driving me crazy. Maybe I would find love just like Miguel seemed to be doing. That bastard. If he was going to keep sleeping with someone else, I swore I wouldn't let him touch me again. I wouldn't be his second choice.

Later in the day, Carl, Miguel's assistant, sent me the details about my studies, and it took everything in me not to throw my phone at the wall. How dare he think he could control me like this? Who the hell did he think he was? He got to run free while I was supposed to be locked away, studying like a good little wife while he lived his love life on the side. My blood boiled at the thought.

I spent the entire day fuming, barely able to contain my anger. I waited for him, determined to confront him that night. But as the hours dragged on, he didn't show. I went to bed, seething, my body tense with frustration and rage. When I woke up the next morning, he still hadn't come to bed.

Where the hell had he been?

I found him in the study, seated at his desk, looking like nothing was wrong. All the anger and hurt I'd been holding in exploded out of me. But instead of starting with the rant I had practiced in my head all night about my studies, the first words that escaped were, "Where the fuck were you all day and night?"

My voice shook, not with fear, but with the fury I had been holding back for too long.